


A Dog in the Wolf's Lair

by Six_Lily_Petals



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Captain Fenris, Drunk Alistair (Dragon Age), Happy Ending, M/M, Pirates, Prompt Fic, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:11:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5146457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Six_Lily_Petals/pseuds/Six_Lily_Petals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt -Now ALL OF YOU go write me a drabble based on this:</p><p> Person A is running the ship while Person B is forced to swab the deck as punishment. Smut or revenge follows. Your choice of pairing.</p><p> <br/>Setting:<br/>Fenris is the Captain of a ship while Alistair is the worst sailor imaginable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dog in the Wolf's Lair

**Author's Note:**

> this is my response to a challenge presented by [The Real Fenris](http://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Real_Fenris)
> 
>  Given the option to have a punishment or smut, I chose both!
> 
> Another answer to this prompt can be found here:  
> [Welcome to the ship, doctor](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5143769)  
> [Two Tevinter Pirates Sitting in a Crows Nest](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5157290)

“There.  You see?  I am always right.  You are an excellent Captain.  You honestly should listen to me more often.”  Isabela deftly slipped her arm around Fenris’ waist, having become intimately familiar with how to navigate around the sharp points of his armor.  It had been a few years since either of them fought at Hawke’s side, but the elf never gave up his Tevinter armor.

Fenris shrugged off her embrace. “I am grateful for your assistance in getting this ship and its crew ready for my hand.   Your advice has been invaluable.”

“As if you had any reason to doubt me.  I am quite good at command, it’s not like other professions where you can sleep your way to the top.”

“And yet, you managed to do both.”

“Nothing wrong with mixing business and pleasure.”  They watched the shoreline grow in the distance.  They would be in port by late evening.  “Just remember the basics and you’ll do fine.”

“Such as disciplining the crew.”

“Right.  Fun’s fun, but when it involves the ship, you can’t let that kind of shit go unpunished or the bastards will try to take the bloody ship out from under you.”

“What are the range of punishments you recommend?”

Isabela waved a hand as she quickly sorted through her mental catalogue.  “Minor things can be working the galley or swabbing the deck.  Then for the serious offenses there’s walking the plank, but in your case, I would suggest you display your fabulous fisting ability.  Scare the crew shitless once in a while, that’s always helpful to keep them in line.”

“Which do you detest the most?  Swabbing or galley duty?”

Isabela turned on the stoic elf, searching for the tell-tale smirk in the corner of his mouth when he was teasing.  It wasn’t there.  “Oh, sweetie, if this is about last night, that…that was nothing.  Just some good, honest fun, a morale thing for the crew.  Who doesn’t enjoy a little entertainment?”

“Not at the Captain’s expense.”

“Fenris.  You can’t be serious.”  She tilted his chin toward her full lips, offering the promise of more with a flick of her tongue.  “I can suggest _other_ punishments.”

“Of that I have no doubt.  However, the point is to punish, not please.  As much as I know you enjoy an audience, that is not the type of entertainment I am willing to offer my new crew.”

Crossing her arms and jutting out a hip, her irritation showed.  “You wouldn’t be Captain of anything if it weren’t for me.”

“And my authority wouldn’t be in question if it weren’t for you.”  Now he sported that smirk she once thought seductive.  Now, all she could think about was how to rip it off his smug face.  “Fun’s fun.”

She glared at him with the promise of death oozing from every facet of her expression.  “Alright.  Fine.  I’ll take swabbing, if that’s how you want to play it.” 

Isabela left Fenris standing alone at the helm, victorious, but seriously concerned about what his future held knowing she wanted revenge.  He inhaled the fresh sea air that he began to associate with the feeling of freedom.  He never knew that _this_ was the life he wanted, that he needed.  **His** ship, **his** crew, it was beyond his wildest imaginings.  Turning his attention toward a few whistles on the main deck, Fenris found that he had an exquisite view of Isabela’s plump rear while she began scrubbing on her hands and knee.  For a moment he regretted his earlier refusal of her alternative punishment, then the teasing from the crew intensified and a few frightened eyes stared up at him in disbelief.  The insult from the previous night was erased. 

_Absolutely worth it, besides how bad could her revenge possibly be?_

***

Weeks passed and the incident slipped from Fenris’ mind completely.  Currently docked at Antivia City, he waited impatiently on the docks for his contact. 

“There’s those pretty eyes!”  Fenris was slightly surprised to see the Isabela meet him in person.  Her note mentioned him taking on a small piece of cargo and he assumed a middleman would simply pass it off. 

“Isabela.  A pleasure.”  Fenris accepted her overly affectionate hug and was slightly disappointed she didn’t offer a kiss.  “Where’s this cargo you wanted me to take on?”

A roar of laughter came from a cluster of Fenris’ crew near the stern of the ship.  “Hey!  Stop that!  I don’t have another one!  Give it back you blighters.” 

The two Captains turned to watch the merriment continue.  A ragged man was stumbling among the crew, chasing after a boot that was being tossed from one man to another.

“It’s not so much a what, as a whom.”  The Rivani Captain slung an arm around Fenris’ shoulders to lean against him.  “I found a new man to join your crew!”

Fenris gaped at Isabela.  “You can’t be serious woman.  It’s not even midday and he’s already drunk.”

The man’s stumbling landed him stuck in a barrel full of carp.  He continued to whine like a child as he squirmed out.  Snapping insults back at the sailors, he grabbed a particularly large fish and attempted to put it on his bare foot.  “Stupid sods.  It looks like I came out on top after all.”

“This is actually the most sober I’ve seen him recently.”

Fenris groaned into his hand as he rubbed his face.  “You could have at least done me the courtesy of having him cleaned up first.”

“I did love, I did!”  She laughed hearty and carefree, probably because the drunkard was no longer her problem.  “He’s a very dear friend of a friend and I swore that I would see him gainfully employed and taken care of.  As you may be able to tell, he can’t take care of himself.”

“Then why don’t you keep him?”

“Because I don’t want him and you owe me.”

There was no way around this.  Her request was reasonable and Fenris did owe her a great deal.  How much trouble could one incompetent man cause?

“Fine.  I’ll take him.  What’s his name?”

“Alistair.” 

***

Fenris sat brooding at his desk.  His only joy was in the bottom of his wine glass and the gentle sway of the ship.  Two weeks on the ship and already most of the crew wanted to toss Alistair overboard.  Fenris included himself in that group.  The man was useless.  He’d been assigned no less than two jobs each day and failed miserably at each one. 

Prepping food in the galley resulted in the vegetables tasting like fish and the fish tasting like Maker only knows.

Mending sails resulted in giant pillowcases.

His assistance in the infirmary resulted in sailors receiving more injuries than they came in with.

Two days were wasted at one port when he somehow dislodged the anchor and Fenris had to hire divers to aide in its retrieval. 

Even something as safe as swabbing the deck turned into a damaged helm and a missing lifeboat. 

Fenris rubbed at his eyes in frustration as he recalled how earlier in the day proved to be another adventure in babysitting Alistair. 

_‘Sabrae, please tell me you can explain this.’_

_‘Wish I could Capt’n.  Even wish I could take credit, but he done did that to ‘im self.  I’ve sent for Boggs, seein’ if’n we can get ‘im out without cutting the lines.’_

_The two sailors studied the entangled dirty blonde who was rendered immobile by an elaborate masterwork of knots and loops.  Alistair was swaying in the breeze ten feet above the deck.  He was only supposed to coil damaged lines for storage after they’d been switched out.  How fucking hard was that?_

_Once he caught Fenris’ glare, he tried to soften the elf’s anger with a sweet smile and large, glassy puppy dog eyes.  Fenris had lost count of how many times that expression had saved the man from certain doom.  At least the oaf wasn’t bad to look at._

A knock at the door gladly tore Fenris from his musings.  “Enter.”

Alistair came in with a dish of food and a bottle of wine, which he set down on the desk.  This was one task that the man was able to execute without issue.

Silently, he turned to leave until Fenris called out to him.  “Stay, talk with me.”

Returning, Alistair saw the chair opposite the desk and tried to move it.  An obvious novice at sailing, he nearly fell over when the bolted down chair didn’t budge.  Laughing at himself, which he did often, Alistair took a seat and looked to Fenris expectantly.

“I am having trouble finding a place for you among the crew.”

“Ah.  Well, I never claimed that the sea was fond of me, nor the crew for that matter.  It’s entirely possible they all do lewd things to my clothes and spit in my meals when I’m not looking.”  He leaned forward to rest an elbow on the desk as he pointed at Fenris.  “I’m almost certain your ship hates me and quite frankly, I don’t like it either.  You saw how it attacked me earlier, I have witnesses!”

A half smile creeped its way up Fenris’ cheek.  These small moments are what kept him from outright killing the man.  Ever since he kept Alistair from drinking dawn to dusk, his attitude was constantly jovial despite his circumstances and inability to be accepted by the crew. 

“I know you don’t like to mention your past, but can you at least tell me what your occupation was?  Perhaps some insight as to what skills you may possess will help.”

Alistair twisted in the chair, clearly uncomfortable.  “I was a…swordsman?”

“Did you only train or have you seen actual battle?”

Alistair giggled in a manner that sent a trill of warmth through Fenris.  He could listen to that delightful sound all day.  “Oh, I saw battle.  All different kinds.  The sticky-gooey kind, the stabby bandit kind, the giant spider chasing an ogre swinging a deepstalker kind, the tainted kind, the organized march kind…”

“Tainted?”

Alistair screwed his eyes shut and waved his hand to try an erase what he just said.  “Forget it.  Forget I said that.  Whatever that was to me once, it isn’t anything now.  Let’s just drop it please.”

Night had already fallen, but there were plenty of lanterns on the main deck as well as a full moon and a quarter.  Decided, Fenris stood suddenly.  “Spar me.”

“Sorry?”

“I have not wielded a blade in a while and I desire a capable partner.”  Fenris marched to his closet to retrieve his sword. 

He delighted in the way Alistair’s eyes widened.  “That is impressive, much bigger and longer than I would have thought.”

Fenris snorted a laugh.  “Are we talking about my sword or _my greatsword?_ ”

Alistair’s face blushed profusely as he fumbled for an answer.  Fenris had not meant to embarrass the man.  He blamed his time around Isabela for the thoughtless remark, although he did not regret the precious look on Alistair’s face.  “C’mon while the moons are still high.”

Barking out a few stern orders, a space was cleared and a weapon found for Alistair.  The sparing started out with a few testing strikes.  Each man’s muscles feeling out the weapon, rediscovering motions long forgotten.  As the fight picked up, more of the crew took interest.  By the time the two warriors were using full blows, the entire ship was cheering them on.

Each time Fenris increased the strength of his strikes, Alistair matched or exceeded them.  They danced back and forth from offensive to defensive.  The cool sea breeze was welcome but after a half hour, it no longer provided enough relief from their body heat.  Alistair held his hand up to pause Fenris’ onslaught.

“Ha!  Giving up already?”  Some of the crew joined Fenris in his taunting, the other half bellowed at Alistair to not give up.  Clearly bets had been made.  “We can continue this in the morning if you need rest.”

A dark and immensely seductive grin curled up Alistair’s face.  He was in his element, this was a life he knew well.  There was no doubting he was a master swordsman, but the question was if he could beat Fenris.  By the look on the tempting man’s face, he already knew the answer.  Alistair handed his blade to a nearby sailor, never breaking eye contact with his Captain.  He crossed his arms to pull the hem of his sweat soaked shirt up over his head.  For Fenris, the entire scene played out in slow motion.  Beads of sweat raced playfully over taunt muscles, a roll of his shoulders pumped life into his rounded deltoids and pecs.  The sight of the two silver metal circles pierced through each of Alistair’s nipples sent a delectable shiver down Fenris’ spine.

Winking at his Captain, Alistair addressed the crowd.  “I think someone is afraid of _l o s i n g_.”  The last word was drawn out in sing-song and absolutely luscious.  Fenris’ ears twitched, dying to hear that voice moan beneath him. 

Fenris released a shuttering breath, which he hid behind a roaring sneer.  “I’ll run you through, smartass.”

Like a wild animal, Fenris attacked relentlessly.  Alistair kept pace, smiling and spitting out goading taunts the entire time.  Their form was flawless but they were getting tired.  Nicks of blood began to appear but both men were determined to win.

Until Alistair took a slicing strike across the chest and fell to the ground, crying out his surrender.  He curled into himself, face down on the deck. 

“Get the surgeon!”  Fenris called out and was immediately answered.

“Don’t bring him to the infirmary.”

Not wanting to waste time arguing, Fenris collected the injured man in his arms.  “Then bring your supplies to my cabin.  We’ll talk about this later.”

The surgeon hurried off, regret at his refusal to admit Alistair creased his face with worry about the ‘talk’.  Inside his cabin, Fenris dumped Alistair on the bed, his muscles reaching the point of failure after their duel. 

“Ouch!  Easy there, I’m a delicate flower!”  Laying on his back, Fenris could see the full extent of the injury.  Running a finger the entire length of the shallow cut, he glowered at Alistair.

“It’s not serious.  It’s even stopped bleeding.  Why did you forfeit?”

Lacing his fingers behind his head, Alistair relaxed into the comfortable bedding with a pleasured sigh.  “I saw that you were getting tired and didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the crew, not when it’s so much easier for me to look the fool.”  He tsk’d at himself.  “I’m used to it by now.”

The door burst open and the surgeon barged in with a crate full of supplies.  Fenris snapped at him without looking.  “Leave the supplies and **get out!** ”

Once the door slammed shut, Fenris removed his gauntlets to retrieve a poultice from the crate.  Alistair, no stranger to healing methods, didn’t wince as Fenris began to work the mixture into the wound.  “Do not expect thanks from me.  I was winning.”

“Such terrible manners and here I thought I was the only one around here raised by dogs.” 

“I am not surprised.  You do come from Ferelden.”  Fenris looked at him from the corner of his eye and decided to tease a little more.  “Besides you have it wrong.  I was raised by wolves.”

In the silence that followed, Fenris could have sworn he heard Alistair’s mind churning.  Thankfully, he wasn’t one to keep his thoughts to himself.  “Captain, why haven’t you gotten rid of me by now?  I know that I’m worse than useless on a ship.  Why have you been so patient with me?”

Cocking his head to the side, Fenris regarded the strapping warrior sprawled in his bed.  _Why did he?_  

“I suppose it is partly because I owe a friend a debt.”  Alistair’s expression dropped, which pushed Fenris to hurriedly add, “And partly because I don’t find your personality to be too annoying.”

The other man brightened a bit, but he still wasn’t back to the fierce man who stirred a pressing want within Fenris.  _Where did he go?_

Placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance, Fenris massaged the muscle lightly as he sat on the edge of the bed.  “Alistair, as much of a pain as you have been, I find myself admiring you despite all of it.”

“So _ooo-_ what you said earlier about swords…does that mean...well, could you, or us…”  Alistair huffed in frustration at his in ability to articulate his thoughts.  Fenris chuckled at his struggles, enjoying the endearing quirk of the man’s personality.  “Do you think a wolf would ever want to sleep with a dog?”

Still shy, but the confidence was resurfacing.  _There’s that man._ Fenris’ hand ran along Alistair’s shoulder, up his neck, then to the back of his head, lifting him up from the pillow.  His heart raced and his blood rushed through his body, the lyrium in his skin ignited and glowed a soft blue.  Alistair didn’t flinch and actually leaned closer. 

Fenris let his lips play on Alistair’s as he spoke.  “Depends.  Do wolves frighten you?”

“No, so long as I can be the _underdog._ ”  Closing the small space between them, Alistair tentatively kissed his Captain.  It was soft and gentle, experimental on both their parts to see how the other reacted.  With no sign of rejection, the kiss deepened and tongues continued the battle forgotten by their blades.  Their actions turned fierce as they clawed at each other while savoring the warm, wet flavor of their ardent kisses. 

Sliding off the bed, Fenris quickly worked himself out of his skintight armor.  “You had better be naked by the time I’m finished.”

Alistair mirrored his Captain’s urgency while he expelled a massive sigh of relief.  “Oh, thank the Maker that comes off!  Wow, alright.  I feel much better about this already.”

Climbing into the small bed meant for one, Fenris nestled between Alistair’s legs and pressed their hips together, both of them releasing a small gasp as their arousals met.  “Do me a favor and stop talking.”

Hovering over Alistair on all fours, the Captain of the ship began to trail kisses from Alistair’s neck down to his chest.  The man arched into Fenris as he began to lick and suck at the piercings through his nipples.  “Anything.  Just promise me that you won’t forget to demonstrate your skill with that _greatsword_ of yours.”

Fenris rolled his eyes as he reached for a vial from a drawer in the bedside table.  Watching with hungry eyes, Alistair licked his lips while Fenris oiled up his _greatsword_ with powerful, long strokes.

Fenris growled at him.  “Shut.  Up.” 

Those were the last words Alistair could remember before he was blissfully run through by his superior.  He would gladly lose every duel if they ended like this.

***

Months later, Fenris came to port in Dairsmuid, Rivain on a regular supply run.  After a few days ashore, he learned that Isabela’s ship was expected in a few days and changed his plans to wait for her arrival.

He met her ship as it docked four days later.  Isabela saw him before the gangplank was secured and opted to swing down from a guard line.  She landed with a bounce and kept the momentum to jump into his arms.

“Ah!  Captain Broody!  What a wonderful surprise.”  She stepped back to yell at one of her men on the ship.  “Higgins!  You know what to do, I’ll be back in a few hours.”  She then looped her arm into the crook of Fenris’ arm and led him away from the docks.  “Come, you’re going to buy me drinks.”

Settled at a table in the nearest Tavern, Isabela had already downed her first round before bringing up the ‘cargo’ she’d left in Fenris’ care.

“So, how’s Alistair?  I have to admit that I’m surprised your ship is in one piece.  No burn marks, or holes.  None that are visible anyway.”

Fenris tilted his tankard at the other Captain.  “You gave him to me as punishment didn’t you?”

“Haha!  Of course I did!  I promised that I would get you back.”  She leaned over the table, her breasts almost spilling out of her clothing, which Fenris had decided a long time ago must have some sort of enchantment in them to keep those tasty mounds under control.  “How long before you had to lock him up in the brig to save him from himself?”

Chuckling, Fenris flagged down the tavern wench to order another round.  “I will admit that it took two weeks before I found an occupation for him.”

“Oh?”  Her eyes brightened in shock.  “This I must hear.  What in the whole of Thedas could he possibly do on a ship?”

“Bodyguard.”

“Hey!  Isabela, I know you!  It’s me, Alistair!  Remember Denerim?  And the Blight?  And the dragon…”

The look on Isabela’s face was worth the price of a fleet of ships.  Fenris hoped he could remember it for the rest of his life.  He doubted she ever expected to find a clean-shaven, sober, happy Alistair who enjoyed his new life at sea greeting her with such enthusiasm. 

Alistair clapped a hand on Fenris’ shoulder, which the elf grabbed with an affectionate squeeze.  “I’m sorry Amatus, but the wench has already moved on.  You’ll have to approach the bar if you wish to drink with us.”

“No problem.”  The bodyguard bent down to peck his Captain on the cheek but Fenris was determined to rub it in that he came out the winner.  He grabbed Alistair by the hair and turned so their mouths met for a possessive, breathtaking kiss that actually elicited a moan from Isabela. 

Alistair gave a charming little giggle, “ _Riiiight_ , well then, I will be sure to hurry back.”

Sticking her lips out in an adorable pout, Isabela grumbled at him.  “You’re no fun.  That was supposed to be a punishment, not a reward.”

“I’ve discovered that he’s an impressive swordsman.  His talents are rather invigorating.”

“A good swordsman indeed.”  It did not escape Fenris’ notice how she squeezed her thighs together.  It wasn’t the first time he’d intentionally said something to heat her blood so.  “You know, I would be happy to participate in any of your sparring sessions.”

Fenris raised an appraising brow.  “That sounds like a proposition worth considering.”


End file.
